


Frozen Sleep

by Ratha_FireSong



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratha_FireSong/pseuds/Ratha_FireSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At The Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo gave his life to save Thorin and with his last deed gave his lover the golden ring he had found in the Misty Mountains. Thorin lives in utter despair and slowly becomes mad with the whispers of the ring that Bilbo left him. He searches for a way to bring Bilbo back from the dead, but only releases the darkness of Sauron upon the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frozen Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Oh I know that no one would want to read this since it is sad...but I could not help it at all!
> 
> Based upon the song Frozen Sleep -> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72oJGTPSWIM

**_Wait in the dark_ **   
_**With the memories that replay my lonesome fears** _   
_**And my mind** _   
_**Is betrayed by time passing by** _   
_**And I just need to to wake up** _   
_**I'm gonna need you to save us** _   
_**And take me home** _

War was the providence of Men who knew how to wield a sword - the hobbit should had not been present during such a time. The Battle of Five Armies had been raging all around the Company and Throin’s eyes had been locked on only one person; Bilbo. He had insisted to be a part of this war, to be by the king’s side through everything. Oh how he had wished for his love to stay in Erebor and to stay in its protective walls of stone, but the Halfling would have none of it. Now they were both in the heat of battle and the orcs fought fiercely. Many an elf, and dwarf fell around the two warriors before the day’s end.

The Pale’s Orc’s eyes were upon Thorin and he rushed to bury his large blade into the king’s chest. Bilbo’s eyes watched the orc charge towards his lover’s back and without a second thought, moved his body between Throin and the orc’s sword. The king turned to only watch his lover fall before him onto his knees, the wound upon his unguarded neck bleeding out onto the ground. In a fit of rage and sorrow, Thorin struck the Pale Orc down with his evlish sword and defeated his foe once and for all. But at what cost?

“BILBO!” Thorin roared in desperation and gathered the small Halfling into his arms. His hand moved quickly to try to stop the bleeding only to feel the hot blood seep through his fingers. Bilbo was growing paler by the second and his breathing was ragged and pained. There wasn’t much time and they both knew this.

Slowly, Bilbo pulled from a pouch hidden at his side and placed a small golden ring in his hand. It was the magic ring that he had told Thorin about. He gave his distraught lover a small smile as his eyes started to dim.

With his last breath Bilbo whispered the only words he wanted Thorin to hear, “My love…”

It was hours before the rest of the Company found the two on the battle field not only to be faced with sorrow at the loss of their burglar but their king lost in the abyss of grief. It took both Fili and Kili to pull Thorin away from the small, cold body in his arms so that Bilbo could be taken to the halls of Erebor to be honored. He had saved their king, but it cost him his own life to do so. Dwalin tried to calm his friend’s sadness telling him that songs would be sung about the king’s consort and his deeds, but Thorin would not listen to the counseling of his friend. For the whole night, and days after he would lay in his clambers and weep for his lover.

Bilbo’s body was taken through the halls and placed inside a crystal coffin of fine craftsmanship by the orders of the king of Erebor. His body had been cleaned and dressed in the finest of silks and upon his body laid jewels and gold – a testament to his worth among the dwarves. As a gift, and a way to ease the pain Thorin felt, Gandalf laid a spell upon Bilbo’s body so that he would not decay in death and all who came upon his tomb would know his beauty.

Songs filled the tomb of Bilbo Baggins and Thorin sang out the loudest above all the voices of the Company. He sang, and sang until he was the only one left singing. He continued this for countless hours before his voice gave out from strain and lack of rest. No matter what anyone said, even the words of the old wizard, Thorin did not leave the tomb of his lover. He sat and stared at the Halfling who laid there before him like a gem he could not touch.

Bilbo had given him everything. He loved him more than anything in the world and he had not realized this until he lost him forever. For many long years, Thorin had been looking for his home. He had thought it was Erebor, but he did not think to find it at the door of Bag End. It was like Bilbo told him one night as they both looked up at the stars;

_“Home is not the building, or walls or roof of a place; but it is the people in it who make it a home. As long as you are surrounded by the people who love and care for you, home shall always be there.”_

The trip to his home, Thorin had learned much about love and only wished for Bilbo to be his consort, to live with him by his side in the court of the dwarves. He promised Bilbo the world, the riches of Erebor, and the title of royalty if he stayed with him. The hobbit only smiled up at him and only wished for Thorin’s heart as payment.

_**Feel the madness taking over** _   
_**While you lay in frozen sleep** _   
_**Though my life's now fading** _   
_**You're still a promise I will keep** _

Weeks passed and then months since the death of the hobbit and Thorin king of Erebor had spent many days and nights in the tomb. Many of his kinfolk tried to ease the pain of his heart, but only to watch their words fall on deaf ears. His body grew pale and thin from lack of food and dark circles grew under his eyes. If he slept, nightmares of that battled filled his mind until he awoke crying out for Bilbo only to find he was not lying by his side.

The kingdom of Erebor never felt like home for Thorin and he did not wish to rule. He appointed Fili, his heir, as the ruler in his stead. The young dwarf accepted it, but held out hope that Thorin would come back to them.

His mind was filled with grief and soon whispers entered the king’s mind from an unknown source. It spoke of a way to save his beloved from death. It spoke of a person to save him - Mairon it would say. Soon it would echo loudly in his mind until it consumed him. His once pale blue eyes beheld the object of his whispers as he held the golden ring Bilbo had given to him on the day he died in his arms. The maker of this object was someone powerful indeed and filled his heart with a sickness and dread. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop the whispers of the magic ring.

It had been a full year since Bilbo’s death and Thorin felt like he was utterly mad. No longer did he leave Bilbo’s tomb and food was brought to him if he had the will to eat. Thoughts turned to the ring and Mairon more and more as the long days passed by. Could this Mairon truly bring back his beloved’s life as if it were nothing?

It was only until the screaming of the ring did not stop did Thorin leave the tomb to lock himself in their kingdom’s vast library. Mairon was the only word the king could think about as he flipped through the pages and books. It took many nights of tearing through pages and throwing useless books against the wall until he found pages that documented the activity of an old cult who whorshiped the Dark Lord Morgoth and the leader of this cult was Mairon, or communally called ‘The Necromancer’. If he offered this ring, could Mairon bring back Bilbo from the grave? He had to find out no matter what.

Thorin left Erebor in the dead of night in search of his salvation with the ring in hand. Listening to the rumors he had heard during his travels with Gandalf to the Lonely Mountain, the dwarf made his way to Mirkwood and vanished into the shadows that had seeped into the forest. Thorin fought his way through the nest of spiders and found himself upon the ruins of a fortress. The evils of Middle-Earth were felt even in the soil as Thorin made his way through the rubble and fallen stone.

**“You wish for your love to come back to you,”** A voice called out and Thorin turned to face a dark figure, **“I can fulfill this deed for you, Thorin Oakenshield of the Durin line.”**

“You can…bring back Bilbo?” Thorin held his sword up to the shadow, his eyes watching for any sign of treachery.  

**“I am the Necromancer for a reason King Under the Mountain.”** It answered back as if it was smirking.

Should he trust this shadow? This figure of darkness who knew his name and what he wished for. Such powers even the Wise Council had not heard of before. Before his eyes, the shadow shifted and transformed to a beautiful man with golden hair and eyes red as coals in a fire. Such a being was not born in these mortal lands, but somewhere beyond the scope of time and space. Thorin, in his mind, had no choice but to accept the being’s offer and promised in return to give him Bilbo’s magic ring.

Finally after a long time of waiting, Thorin would hold his beloved in his arms again. He vowed that he would never let Bilbo go and would leave with him back to the Shire, back to a safe home where no one would take his hobbit away. The world could have his kingdom and his gold as long as he could stay with Bilbo for the rest of his life. Thorin lead Mairon to Erebor and past the guards to the tomb of his beloved.

Light filtered through from the ceiling and Bilbo’s glass coffin shone with a brilliant light. The colorful gems about his pale body glittered like a rainbow after a great storm. The magic of Gandalf had frozen Bilbo in time and left no evidence of decay and death only the blue lips and pale skin. He looked as if he had been sleeping with his hands clasped over his chest. Thorin longed to place his hand over the hobbit’s chest and feel his heart beat against his palm again. Pushing away the top of the coffin, Thorin stroked over the messy curls of his beloved. Soon death would be nothing but a fleeting nightmare for the two lovers.  

A sharp pain caused Thorin’s to cry out and he looked down to find a Morgul blade pushed through his chest from behind. He fell to his knees and grasped onto the crystal coffin as Mairon pulled his dagger out of the dwarf. The golden ring fell from Thorin’s hand and rolled in front of the Necromancer.

**“Your grief made you an easy target Thorin,”** Mairon smiled wickedly down at the wounded king, **“You will was broken when your lover’s spirit left this world and enslaved to the Ring of Power. You are a fool to believe one who was servant of Morgoth would bend to your will for that which belongs to me.”**

Thorin did not listen to Sauron or the cries of his people as the Dark Lord let his power consume all life around them. All he saw was Bilbo laying there in frozen sleep and how peaceful he looked. He had often watched him sleep during their journey and wished that he would always give his beloved comfort like when he slipped into the world of dreams. Slowly, with the last ounce of strength he had left in his body, the king crawled next to the hobbit and held him close. The world about him was crumbling and he did not care that he brought the darkness back to Middle-Earth again. All that mattered as the darkness washed over his sight was that Bilbo was there in his arms.

**_You’ll always be_ **

**_My Sword, my shield._ **


End file.
